As you've probably noticed, I'm a couple of days behind. I may catch up, if the spirit moves me to write another post later today. And two tomorrow... One of the things about this pandemic is that I've lost what sense of time and place I had. And I didn't have much to begin with. Sometimes I think I'm eight years old. Another time I'll wake up and I'm 20. With the pandemic, I'm 30 something again. I'm home with my (grand)kids, focusing on their needs, worrying about their growth. My children are grown now, but I don't always remember that. They are no longer my business, except to say "It's wonderful to see you. Thank you for your help. Thank you for being wonderful people."Part of this Advent journey is birthing myself. Again. That's going to involve watching the world as it moves very slowly around me. Watching myself, going inside to the dark, dripping, scary places. Watching my fears and where they came from. Observing the development of my prejudices. Examining the arcana around my inner round table. Who talks the most? Who is silent? Who has forgotten how to speak?
Frankly, this feels a little forced, but steps... baby steps. And I'm fairly comfortable watching. It's the not judging yet that is going to trip me up.
No comments:
Post a Comment